Tethered
by angelinconflict
Summary: Part 5 in the Well Runneth Eternal series finds Dean on a mission for answers after he discovers a new found connection between him and Cas, a mission that takes a strange turn when he and Cas find a headless body and a new threat on Dean's soul


Author's note: I am severely enjoying writing this series! I have been unable to stop and have now decided that this is going to be more than just one nine-part series. I do, however, want to make it clear that this is not a love story about two men, but about an angel and a human. I also want to emphasize that I do not and would never take credit for the creation of these characters. Kripke is a friggin genius and this is merely a tribute to his greatness. Thank you and enjoy! Also please read and review, I value all your opinions.

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><p>Dean sat alone inside the parked Impala. He was on a stakeout for answers. According to the clock on the dash, it was already two in the morning. He let out a sigh of exhaustion and slid down in his seat, closing his eyes. For months since Castiel was promoted to archangel, Dean was unable to sleep properly. Perhaps it was because he could sense the angel's presence before anyone else or because he could hear the words before the angel spoke them. Sure, they were close, but ever since he demanded Castiel to siphon some of his energy, he felt like there was a part of him tethered to the angel. Just this morning, Dean was awakened to the fact that Castiel would be arriving sometime tonight. He even knew that the reason for Castiel's arrival was to have a meeting with Sam. So there he was, nearly asleep behind the wheel of his Impala, impatiently awaiting Castiel's entrance.<p>

Sam stood in the usual place right next to the green Mustang Castiel used to sit on when he was thinking, before he was promoted to archangel. Obviously, Castiel had something important to discuss, since it had been almost two months since his last visit. Sam thought he saw a shadow move in the Impala, but decided that he was just being paranoid, a symptom that worsened the longer he and Dean stayed at Bobby's place. A few minutes after two and Sam finally heard the flutter of wings.

"Hello Sam," the archangel greeted with a stiff nod.

"Castiel," Sam replied also with a nod.

"I have just come to tell you that I may have made an error in judgment and we will soon start seeing the disastrous effects."

Sam stared at the angel, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "You need to give me more," he admitted.

"I never should have let Dean convince me to take some of his energy. I would rather have become a demon than face the havoc that this will cause."

Sam pointed to the mustang. When Castiel finally sat in his usual spot, Sam spoke, "Cas, we weren't just gonna let you transform, and so far, there have been no side effects to Dean lending you his energy."

"Of course you cannot experience the side effects, Sam," he growled, dropping his head. "Something else happened in that panic room that even I cannot explain; all you need to know is that I have done all in my power to prevent the secret from being revealed."

Sam wavered a little on the spot. "You wanna go into a little more detail? What else happened? Is it PG-13 or MA?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Sam, this is no joke…"

"You think I'm joking?" Sam squeaked. "It's bad enough that I'm keeping the…" Castiel's warning glare forced Sam to change direction, "_you know what_ a secret? If there is something else—something worse, I'm sorry man, but…"

"Can I speak for a second, Sam?" Castiel interrupted, blue eyes fiercely bright.

"Sure," Sam replied.

"Nothing MA" he added air quotes to this "or PG-13 happened in the panic room. You and your brother are both… for lack of a better word, obsessed with… _that_. You do understand that not all relationships require fornication, don't you?"

Sam lifted his hand in surrender. "Okay, fine, just… never say that word again." Sam tried to erase all images generated by that word, but he knew it would take at least a decade to destroy them all. "So what happened in the panic room?"

Castiel lifted his head. "I didn't just receive the energy; I think… I mean I'm certain that a piece of his soul…"

"Holy crap! Is that even possible?"

"It's not supposed to be, but then the infinite soul was supposed to be a myth, so I guess… _anything's_ possible."

Sam paced in a circle, holding his head in his hands. "And Dean doesn't know?"

"There is a lot of information Dean doesn't know, but this… this might change everything."

"Will Dean be okay without that piece?" Sam asked.

"Of course," Castiel replied, tilting his head.

"I dunno how all this soul stuff works!"

"That piece of his soul is safe with me, but the issue that concerns me is the unexpected connection he has to me, to my thoughts, to my very presence. I have had no choice but to concentrate all my thoughts solely on nothingness."

"Lien knows the true art of meditation if you need some help with that," Sam offered unable to add much more.

"Sam," Castiel sighed in frustration.

"What do you want me to say? It's not like I can rip that piece of his soul out of you…" he contemplated this, lifted his eyes to Castiel and asked, "can I?"

"No."

"I knew that. So… what exactly do we do now?"

"What is there to do, but wait, and hope that the inevitable does not happen?" Castiel muttered.

Dean remained slumped in the seat of his Impala, listening into the conversation going on several feet from him. He felt his jaw drop upon learning one secret among the many that were being kept from him: Castiel now owned a piece of his soul. There had to be way to get that piece back. Unfortunately, this explained why he felt permanently attached to Castiel like soap on a rope. He was forced to wait until Castiel made his get-away and Sam returned to the house before starting up his Impala and driving the hell away from there. He thought about confronting the angel and demanding the piece of his soul back, but decided that if he could learn _this_, then there was something much bigger being kept from him. Castiel was concerned about revealing the secret so Dean just had to catch him off guard. He pulled the car to the side of the road, shut off the engine, shut his eyes and leaned back, placing his hands on the steering wheel. He, with barely any reluctance, was able to follow the invisible tether straight to Castiel's thoughts.

"What are you hiding from me, you slimy bastard?" Dean muttered under his breath.

Dean had come to a wall—red brick, obscuring any images, including those that might eventually lead to the big secret. Dean groaned. "You can't fight me forever, Cas." A bright flash shoved Dean out of the forbidden zone. "Sonofabitch," he gasped, gripping around his head.

A voice much too close to him, spoke, "You heard everything, I assume?"

Dean jerked from the shock of the intrusion. "What is _wrong_ with you?" he snapped, massaging his temples.

"I had no choice, Dean. There are things you simply cannot know."

"Things?" he mumbled.

"I am sorry your head is causing you pain," Castiel apologized.

"Tell me what happened in Luckless," Dean demanded abruptly, forcing his watering eyes to Castiel's. "What did you do to me? And why the hell did you pull a mind wipe on me?"

Castiel pressed a hand onto Dean's head; instantly, the pain was gone. Dean felt his body sigh with relief. "I told you everything you should know about Luckless," he said, removing his hand.

"Fine, so why did you save me then? We both know that when all was said and done, our friendship was blown to hell the minute you made a deal with the king of Hell. We can't trust each other, we have no more faith in each other; we may as well be strangers."

Castiel leaned back, sighing heavily. "Sam asked for my help," he replied tonelessly.

"Sam?"

"Yes."

"So you saved me because Sam asked you to?"

"Yes."

"Since when did you become all buddy, buddy with Sam?" Castiel looked to be holding onto something incredibly tight. "Cramps?" Dean remarked when Castiel had remained silent.

The angel turned to face Dean, face tense, eyes tough like granite. "I am sorry, but the more you search, the less you will find. Sam called for my help because you were close to death. I saved your life as I have done many times before, and there is nothing unique or significantly different from any of those other times. Please stop digging because you are wasting your time."

Dean nodded, biting down on his lower lip. "Except for the fact that you will not tell me how you saved my life."

"Why must you know the how? Aren't you glad that you're alive? Does there always have to be a catch?"

"Defensive much?"

"Dean…"

"As long as there's a secret between you and my brother concerning me, I'm gonna do whatever it takes to find it out. Trust me, Cas, I'm a paranoid sonofabitch for good reason. Saving my life has never been a cakewalk and there has never not been a price."

A longer silence resulted from this in which Castiel seemed to relax as a consequence. This slightly unnerved Dean, but he kept it to himself.

When Castiel spoke, his tone was much warmer. "I should go. I have already been away too long."

"Yeah," mumbled Dean.

But Castiel didn't leave. Instead, he jerked forward, grabbing his head as though someone had punched him from behind.

"Cas?" Dean heard himself gasp, concern clear in the inflection as he reached a hand to the angel's stiff shoulder. "Hey…"

Castiel straightened; obviously the pain was gone.

"What the hell, man?"

"Something happened," he gasped, gripping the door of the Impala.

"Can you be a bit more vague?" Dean snapped.

"I can…"

"Sarcasm, Cas. What the hell happened?"

Castiel shook his head. "I don't know, but I have to go there, now."

"Where?"

"Los Angeles," Castiel replied.

"By yourself?"

Castiel made a face of perplexed confusion. "Uh… yes."

"I was just…" Dean changed course, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid, "never mind, go."

"Can I speak, Dean?"

"Feel free," Dean muttered.

"You and your brother have to learn to finish your sentences." With that, he grabbed Dean's arm.

When the two of them arrived in LA, Dean let out a resounding "Jesus!" then nearly toppled from the abruptness of their arrival. Castiel caught Dean's arm just as his knees buckled. With a grunt that was meant to be gratitude, he straightened to gaze around. "Yep, just as I remember it, good old LA!"

"This way," Castiel guided, powerwalking through the crowds towards an isolated warehouse. Dean had to run to catch up and when they reached the metal doors, he had to stop and breathe.

"Cas, I know you're one of the big head honcho angels now… and you can run fast, and leap over tall buildings, but you wanna remember that I'm still a freakin human being?"

Castiel stood there, calm as always, waiting. "You finished?" he asked without impatience.

"Breathing? Nah, I think that's a forever kind of thing…"

"Sarcasm?"

"Annoyance."

Castiel nodded.

Dean lifted, gripped his chest and pulled in a large breath of air before releasing it slowly.

"Now?" Castiel asked, as unmoving and still as a statue.

"Yeah… now," Dean replied.

He watched as Castiel, with ease, pushed the doors open. A stream of light filtered in through the thick darkness of the warehouse but before Dean could suggest a flashlight, Castiel casually turned to the wall and flicked a switch. Rows upon rows of florescent bulbs came to life above their heads, humming their gratitude. Already, Dean could see specks of blood just inches from where he stood. Castiel took long strides ahead of Dean to examine the scene. The specks were fast becoming dark red pools, pools with bits floating on top. More bits were scattered in every direction. "Son of a…"

Dean stopped right next to Castiel. Lying there, arms and legs stiff as nails, was the first corpse of the night. However, unlike most corpses he was used to seeing in places like this, this corpse was missing its head. It did not take long for Dean to put two and two together—the bits and pieces, the pools and specks… somehow the head had become detached and had also exploded. "Wow," he gasped.

"Wow?" Castiel repeated, looking over at him.

"It's a bad kind of wow," Dean explained.

"It gets worse, Dean. I would not be here if this wasn't an angelic matter."

"Well, it's obviously some freak of nature we didn't contain when you temporarily exploded all the Purgatory bits, right? Sam and I can check things out."

"This freak of nature just killed a demon," Castiel explained, emphasizing Dean's choice of words with air quotes. Dean realized that Castiel liked using those.

Dean made a face. "Sam and I kill demons all the time."

"Do you intend to remove the head in this manner?"

"It's not like we don't try new things," Dean mumbled under his breath.

"Dean, as fun as this has been, this has now become a matter that I and my brethren must deal with. I will send you back home before…"

The words were barely out of his mouth before something (neither of them knew what) appeared out of thin air. The strangest thing happened, something both angel and hunter were not expecting. The thing opened its mouth and began singing. It had just let loose as though it had walked onto a Broadway stage. Despite Dean's attempts not to listen, he was attracted to it—the voice was melodic, sweet, lulling.

Castiel was yelling, but Dean could barely hear him. It wasn't until Castiel covered his own ears that Dean followed suit; the calming sensation slowly wore off. "Cas?"

"Please do not think less of me for this," he pleaded, then with his head tilted upward, he sang as loud as he could. For an angel, his voice was not as the biblical scriptures described—he did not sound angelic and he was not easy on the ears. Although for as bad as the angel was, the creature with the beautiful set of pipes did vanish.

Castiel removed his hands from his ears, assuring Dean that it was safe to do the same. "Are you okay?"

"Wow!" Dean gasped, staring at his friend.

"Wow?"

"Bad wow, Cas! Bad wow! What the hell was that? I thought all you angels at least were given singing lessons up there."

"It is not my fault," Castiel defended, furrowing his brows, "Jimmy can't sing. I am usually very good."

"No," Dean said, shaking his head. "You're awful… I mean… awful!"

"Regardless, I saved your life… again. You should be thanking me as you always conveniently forget to do."

Dean smothered a snicker. "You're right, Cas. Thank you. You and your horrific sounding voice saved my life. I'm grateful."

Castiel shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You understand what must be done here?"

"Nope, not a clue," Dean admitted.

Castiel gripped Dean's shoulders. "Well, first you will go back to Bobby's, and I will find and vanquish this creature."

"Why? Isn't it doing us a favour? Hey, I enthusiastically welcome all monsters who want to take down demons. In my book, that's cause for celebration."

Castiel's voice took on a harsh tone. "That creature is not doing anyone any favours, I assure you. It is my understanding that whatever it is has been sent here on a mission, and will not stop killing until that mission has been fulfilled.

Dean glanced around the warehouse, almost expecting the creature to return. He was feeling a wave of grief due to losing that unbelievable voice. "So, it comes, it sings, heads explode and it moves on? Don't you think there's something a little off about that?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes on Dean. "What's wrong with you, Dean? You seem a little…"

"I'm fine," Dean cut in.

"You do understand that the creature nearly killed you?"

"I understand, Cas, Geez!"

"I'm sending you back to Bobby's. Hold still…"

Dean stopped him to a sudden familiar tune coming from his pocket. "Hang on," he said, dragging his cell phone out, examining the caller ID.

"Dean, the longer you stay here, the worse the risk of…"

"Yeah, yeah, just one sec." With a wave of dismissal, he answered the call, "Sam?"

"Dean? Where are you? Bobby and I are travelling all over looking for you. Are you okay? Are you on a job?"

"Slow down," Dean demanded, watching as Castiel's expression changed with his growing impatience. "Look, I just took a little trip with Cas. We're…"

"You took a trip with Cas?" Sam cut in, emphasizing the words heatedly.

"Yeah! What's with that… voice?"

"What voice?"

"You know what voice. What? You think we're on a date or something?" Dean laughed but Sam's silence ended the humour instantly. "Sam, seriously?"

"I didn't say anything," Sam defended in a high pitched whine.

"You didn't have to! What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you and wannabe American Idol over here have no friggin sense of humour?"

"Time to go," Castiel insisted, lifting his hand. Dean grabbed it at the wrist.

"Not while I'm on the phone, man," he hissed.

"Be quick," Castiel demanded, eyeing him sternly now.

"Friggin angel," Dean muttered under his breath.

"What?" Sam said.

"Nothin. Look, something is goin on. There's a… singing monster… if you can believe it, and it wants everyone's heads on a stick… well… actually, it just wants to blow the heads up."

Sam cut in immediately. "Wait, wait! Singing monster? Heads blowing up? You're losing me, dude. Where are you?"

"LA," Dean replied.

"LA? As in…"

"Yep, Hollywood, man. I'm in Hollywood and there is a singing monster that can actually sing. You should hear this thing, Sammy—voice like an… well, scratch that, angels don't sound that good."

"Losing me… still!"

Dean started from the beginning, filling Sam in on everything that had led up to his and Castiel's trip to Los Angeles.

Sam's voice was brimming with disapproval. "You were spying on us?"

"Not the point, Sam! And you know what…"

"Sing!" Castiel demanded from somewhere in that warehouse.

"What?" Both Dean and Sam replied at the same time.

"I don't…"

The creature was back, and now it was standing directly in front of Dean. Dean's jaw fell slightly to the beauty emanating from the creature—white flowing robes, jet black hair falling over slender shoulders. She or it was singing to him, serenading him, and he was losing himself to it.

"Dean," Castiel howled.

"Are monsters supposed to be this beautiful," he sighed, grinning stupidly when a glowing white hand extended to stroke beneath his chin. "Hi… I'm Dean…"

"I know," the creature sang, batting her long, dark eyelashes at him. "I have come for you, Dean Winchester."

"For me? I'm… honoured…"

"Ass butt!" Castiel yelled again, and somehow, it was enough to snap Dean out of his daze. He stepped back from the creature.

"Sorry, sweetheart, not today." Clearing his throat, he attempted to sing, but the creature slapped the soft hand over his mouth, moving closer to him.

"I must take you with me, now. I will be gentle as he does not want you harmed."

"He?" Dean muffled from beneath the creature's hand.

"He has summoned me, allowed me entrance to your world… for a price."

"Shock," he muffled again.

"It is imperative you come with me or I will be forced to take many lives. I apologize for this inconvenience."

Dean's laugh was muffled. "You're the first."

"No!" Dean caught sight of Castiel behind the creature's shoulder, but she turned swiftly, stopping him with one hand raised. She was obviously infused with enough power to put the brakes on an archangel.

"I'm sorry, Castiel, but you have to die."

Dean stood there, unharmed, staring at the back of the creature. She was holding Castiel in mid-air with one hand raised effortlessly. In seconds, she would start singing. There was only one thing left to do: Dean quickly summoned the lyrics from "Smoke on the Water" out of his memory, pulled in a breath, and sang as loud and as proud as he could. The creature was gasping, forced to let go of Castiel in order to press her hands to her ears. Dean refused to stop singing until the creature finally vanished. Castiel crumpled to the floor, gripping around his throat and massaging.

"Cas?" Dean called, reaching down to pull one of the angel's arms around his shoulders as leverage to haul him to his feet. "Cas? How's your head?"

"Aching," Castiel replied in a groan. "You sang…"

"Of course I sang. What? You thought I was just gonna let you die?"

"Well, she was a beautiful woman; you tend to… lose all rational thought around them."

"Shut up," Dean snapped. "And she wasn't beautiful; she was friggin gorgeous! How the hell is she a monster?"

"Good question. Why don't you ask her the next time she visits?"

"Why is it you have the best comebacks when you're injured?"

Castiel let out a breath of exhaustion. "She has come for you."

"You know what she is?"

"Yes… she is a land siren, much different from the other siren of her species—possibly genetically altered. Whoever has offered her asylum is much stronger even than I am. And… to make these matters a lot worse, she will kill until she has you in her possession."

Dean propped the injured angel up onto his shoulder. "You know what? We can get Bobby, Sam and Lien to help us figure this out. In the meantime, you can take a sabbatical."

"I cannot take any such thing, Dean."

"Right, because you're just the picture of health right now."

"This all comes down to you and your soul. That is what her superior covets and that is what

they will have if I do not find out who they are as soon as possible."

Castiel pulled himself up, smoothed the creases out of his coat, and lifted his hand to Dean's forehead. "Be safe, Dean. I will come with news as soon as I acquire it."

Dean blocked Castiel's hand with his arm. "You're just gonna what? Go up to Heaven and start interrogating every angel until you get answers?"

"Yes."

"What if that's just what they're expecting? What if they want you to show up so that whoever it is can kill you? Seriously, Cas, take a lesson from Bobby, and start bein a lot more paranoid!"

"Your concern is appreciated."

"It's not concern!"

"Whatever it is, it is appreciated," Castiel said. He stooped to pick something up, noticing it before Dean could. As he handed the small cell phone over, it started to ring. "Dean, I implore you to stay out of Los Angeles."

Dean had his phone just as the angel's warm hand met his forehead. He wasn't sure what he had heard, but when he returned to his Impala, he swaggered then collapsed against the car. "Forgot to bend the knees," he muttered to himself. The tether connecting him to Castiel had given him access to the angel's thoughts when he was more vulnerable.

_There is nothing I would not do for you, to keep you safe… please… I need you to trust me._

Dean pressed a hand to his heart unable to fathom why it was racing heavily beneath his chest. This Jedi-mind trick was new to him. However, the warning was not in third person. Perhaps, Castiel meant for him to hear those words. Perhaps, this tether worked both ways and both were able to enter each other's thoughts. "Oh god," he choked aloud, climbing behind the wheel of his Impala, and turning the key to start it. "I feel so violated." Castiel had taken advantage of their connection to push a thought into his head. The angel had the control here.

Dean arrived at Bobby's, parked the car, and walked over to the Mustang. He wasn't sure, but something told him that he would be able to take something from this spot. He pressed a hand to the hood of the car and slid it along, remembering where he had seen Castiel sit. Without a moment of hesitance, he sat, closing his eyes. The strangest feeling washed over him—a feeling meshed with muffles, words, incomprehensible but there. He remained sitting, listening. Castiel's voice was sharpening.

_We need to keep this secret, Sam. Dean must never know for his own safety._

It wasn't much but it was something. Just as Dean began concentrating to learn more, Sam's voice interrupted. "Dean?"

Dean mumbled a curse under his breath before straightening to face his brother who was running towards him. "I'm fine, Sam."

"Bobby, he's here," Sam called to the figure lagging behind. Bobby's breathing was ragged.

"Good," the older hunter replied gruffly before slowing to a walk.

"I was calling you, Dean. Did you turn your phone off or something?"

Dean pulled his cell phone from his pocket to check it over. Two missed calls. He glanced up at his brother. "I was in transit at the time," he explained, pocketing his phone again.

Sam nodded, voice suddenly higher in pitch than Dean was used to. "So uh… how was the trip… with Cas?"

"Bloody," Dean replied, the image of a headless corpse still fresh in his mind.

"Romantic," Sam remarked.

"Well, I can say this about my infinite soul; it's definitely a monster magnet piece of crap. Apparently, it's eternal energy that, in the wrong hands, could potentially destroy the world. Now, here's what I don't get," he continued, temporarily forgetting all about his previous mission to go on this tirade, "How come everyone else can use my energy to usurp God, but I can't even fight off a friggin siren? Tell me how that works?"

Sam pressed his lips into a thin line as though contemplating this. "Not sure," he said.

"Real insightful there, Sam. Glad all that college education was put to good use."

"You think I took a course on souls?" Sam argued, crossing his arms. Slowly, he lowered his arms, glancing around as though he just realized where they were standing. Suspicion layered his voice when he spoke again. "Why are you out here?"

"Because it's a free country and I needed to get some air."

"Here?" Sam repeated again, "Right here? This exact spot?"

"Yeah! What's with the third degree, Sam?"

"Did you say a siren, before?" Sam asked, eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Didn't we hunt a siren once already?"

Dean was relieved that Sam had abandoned his first inquiry, and nodded, remembering the first siren that had tricked Dean and Sam and nearly caused both of them to destroy each other. "Not like this one, Sammy. According to Cas, this was a land siren, and, shock of the century, she ain't here to get her kicks on route 66; she's here for my soul."

"Oh… crap," Sam responded. "So did you and Cas gank her?"

"Not quite. This siren sings, and she's good, too. I would definitely crash a ship for her. She's working for someone else, but besides learning that the leader of the pack is a "he", I got nothing else out of her."

Bobby had finally reached them, breathing heavily and glaring at Dean as though he had been out past curfew. "You mind givin some notice before you just take off?" He snapped, slapping Dean upside the head.

"Ow!"

"He took a trip with Cas," Sam explained.

The look on Bobby's face changed, becoming unreadable as he nodded slowly. "Oh," he murmured. "Well uh… you should still call." Without another word, he turned and headed to the house.

Dean glared at his brother. "This inside joke needs to die hard… before you do," he threatened.

"You said it was just a trip."

"It _was_ just a trip," Dean hissed through gritted teeth now.

"I know."

"Do you?"

"I'm not saying anything."

"Well what you're not saying is pissin me off so just…"

"Dean…"

"I mean it, man! I am not kiddin!"

Sam nodded. "Fine. Can we talk about the siren now? How do we gank it?"

"Didn't we use a bronze dagger last time?"

Sam nodded with an impressed look in his eyes. "I think so."

"Shocked that I remembered that?"

"A little," Sam admitted.

"Let's let Bobby in on this hunt, see if he still has that dagger."

The two headed towards the house.

Castiel emerged in a familiar alley—the exact one in which he ruthlessly attacked Dean after finding out that his rebellion was all for naught since Dean was going to give himself over to Michael. Bleeding from a cut lip and gasping for air, he wanted to call Belthazar or Lien to help him. He had no idea the angels were so set against his return, so much so that they would do this. He coughed, glanced around, coughed again. He collapsed against the wall, gripping the chest of his shirt.

A voice startled him and he turned, preparing himself for another battle. "Cassie, you can't hide from me. I'm older than you, smarter than you; you are just my protégé."

"I am not like you," Castiel growled.

"The house rules, Cassie. Everyone else thinks it; therefore… it must be true."

"You've been demoted, Lucifer."

"Maybe, but archangel or not, I can still kick your sorry ass straight to Hell. But…" he grinned, "I'm not going to because you… are unique, special. You, my little brother, are in love."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "You are confused," he muttered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's not that kind of love; it's not sexual, but love is love, Cassie and it's comin off you in waves. The soul that broke off, that's in you, is there because Dean wants it there, because he wants you to have a piece of him. Romantic," he hissed.

Castiel prepared himself for a fight, but his older brother just laughed at him. "Really?"

"I have been practising," Castiel growled.

"Cas…"

"I know why you're here, Lucifer, and it is not for a reunion," Castiel cut in.

"Do you know," Lucifer started in a slow drawl, placing his arm around Castiel's shoulders, "that all my minions downstairs called me Lucky? Ironic I know but we respected each other, looked out for each other, and now that little snail, Crowley has messed everything up. Waiting in line? How droll? I just want my old position back. Look… I am asking you, as your brother, to pay me this kindness. Cassie, we're family, and sometimes… family has to ask a lot of one another."

"You can't have Dean's soul," Castiel stormed with finality in his voice.

Lucifer's voice continued to drip with saccharine sweetness. "I don't want to own it; I just want to… borrow it for a while, just to put that slimy little worm in his rightful place. I won't take it all, little brother, just enough to give me a boost. I was in a cage, energy spent in my efforts to get out. That little bit of Dean's soul will return me to the angel I once was…"

"You are no longer an angel."

"I'm a banished angel, but I am still an angel. Look, it takes a lot of power to overcome the transformation, but I did it. Believe it or not, little brother, I have not lost my status the way our father wanted. By the way, congratulations on the banishment! You are the first since me who has committed an act worthy of that punishment."

Castiel grimaced. "I didn't…"

"Of course you didn't. Crowley did, which is why I need the boost Dean's soul can give me. I am going to give that traitor what he rightfully deserves—an agonizingly slow and painful death. I am doing this for you, too, because what he did… was just wrong."

Castiel gazed into the coaxing blue eyes of his brother. "I can't just… lend out Dean's soul."

"Well… what about the piece you have? If you just let me borrow that piece, I will give it right back, I swear!"

Castiel felt Dean's soul responding to this with terror. He promised to keep this piece safe and he would do so despite his brothers' plea. "No. I'm sorry, but you have to find energy elsewhere."

Lucifer released Castiel, straightening. "Fine, but it's not like I don't have a plan B."

Castiel felt a wave of panic, knowing that his brother had not changed even one iota being trapped in the cage. He was still the scheming snake he always was. Castiel tried to teleport to Bobby's in order to warn them all, but his attempts were fruitless. He was staying put.

Lucifer sighed. "I am sorry, brother, but I did ask nicely."

"Don't do this," Castiel gasped.

"Plan B is a lot harsher than Plan A I'm afraid. Poor Dean is not gonna live through it."

Castiel turned from Lucifer, bowing his head. The hand on his shoulder convinced him that he looked weak and helpless when, in reality, he was summoning the tether that would lead him to Dean's thoughts.

"Cassie, you are a one-of-a-kind angel, you know that. Dad would be proud…"

Castiel concentrated on pushing one thought through to Dean.

_Dean, you, Bobby and Sam must leave immediately! Lucifer has sent the land siren for your soul! Dean, can you hear me?_

A voice responded. _Holy crap! Cas? How the hell are you in my head? Do you know what kind of freakin violation this is? We have had the talk about personal space and now…_

Castiel was forced to cut into Dean's irate rant. _Can we argue later, after I have saved your life? Please just go! Now!_

_We're going, but you owe me one HUGE explanation!_

Lucifer's shout interrupted the connection and Castiel lifted his head. "Where were you just now, Cassie?"

"What?" Castiel replied, trying to coax tears into his voice.

Lucifer grabbed Castiel's shoulder, twisting him around roughly. "Let me guess, you have a psychic connection to Dean now, don't you? You cease to disappoint. I have to admit, of all our brothers and sisters, I like you best of all." With that last rave of sentiment, Lucifer thrust Castiel into the brick wall, knocking him out cold. The angel crumpled like tissue paper. "Sorry, little brother, but I'm on a mission tonight." He vanished then, leaving Castiel alone in the alley.

Dean sat behind the wheel, a feeling of anxiety causing his hands to shake tremulously. "Something's wrong," he gasped, glimpsing Sam in the passenger seat.

"Is it Cas?"

"I dunno… I just feel…"

Suddenly a voice emerged out of the darkness, echoing around them, summoning them to it. "What is that?" Bobby whispered completely enraptured by it, and rolling down the window to hear it better.

"Take a left," Sam insisted, also leaning his head out the window.

Dean should have been just as taken by the voice, but something was stopping him from becoming too engrossed. "Sam," he called, shaking his brother's shoulder.

"I'm sure we're close," he sighed, examining the line of dark trees on his side.

"Close your ears," Dean ordered, but it was no use, his brother was long gone. He pulled the car to the side of the road and decided that the best course of action was to cover his brother's ears with his own hands. However, the second the Impala was parked, both Bobby and Sam bolted, racing down the road in search of the sound. "Hey," Dean shouted after them, "Sam! Bobby!"

He attempted to chase after them when a figure emerged in a furious flutter of wings. The voice was familiarly smooth. No longer possessing Sam, Lucifer had taken the guise of a priest with jet black hair and fiery blue eyes. "Dean Winchester, it is good to see you again."

"Get out of my way," Dean growled.

"Is that any way to greet a friend?" Lucifer hissed with a coy grin.

"We're not friends, you giant douche," Dean snapped.

"Of course we are because any friend of Castiel's is a friend of mine."

Dean tried to observe the road behind the insolent angel, but Lucifer obscured his view every way that he could. "Let me guess—I give you my soul, and you stop your lackey from sending my brother and Bobby off a cliff, right?"

"You know me so well," sighed Lucifer with a feigned impressed smile.

"You know what? It's just a friggin soul so take it," Dean snapped.

"You do know what giving up your soul means, right?" Lucifer purred, leaning close to Dean now.

"Yeah, it means that Bobby and Sam both live."

"Well yes, but _you_ don't."

Dean knew that he had run into a wall now, that there was no other way to save his brother and his surrogate father from following the siren song straight to their deaths. It was either him or them and he knew the choice before he ever uttered it. "Yeah, I know. Can you just… get to it, already?"

Lucifer nodded, stepping back. "Relax Dean and I promise you won't feel a thing."

Dean felt a wave of terror to Lucifer's hand now outstretched toward him as latin spilled off his tongue easily. Dean could feel the warmth of his soul being torn from him, fearfully resisting, causing him pain as it desperately fought.

"Dean!" Shouted a voice from somewhere in the distance, perhaps in his head.

He concentrated on Castiel, surprised that it was incredibly easy to access the angel's thoughts. _Cas? I had no choice. It was my life or the lives of my family._

_I can help… I can stop this…_

_It's too late._

_Lend me your soul._

Dean felt something stir inside him to the suggestion. _How?_

There was no answer just a flutter of wings, resulting in a bright figure tackling Lucifer and bringing him to the ground. Dean could still hear the siren song. Sam and Bobby were safe for now. He had no idea how long it would be before the song ended, indicating that they were both dead.

"Cas!" Dean called.

"What are you gonna do, little brother," laughed Lucifer as both angels struggled to their feet. Dean caught the eyes of Castiel and nodded.

Castiel approached Dean, gasping as he stared at the hunter. "This will hurt," he admitted.

"I don't care," Dean choked. "Sam… and Bobby…"

"Are fine," Castiel insisted.

"No thanks to me and this stupid excuse for a soul!"

"Cassie," Lucifer called in a tone of complete self-satisfaction.

"Take a deep breath, Dean. I promise you, no harm will come to Bobby or to Sam, but you have to trust me."

For the first time since their showdown, Dean felt himself nod and speak genuinely. "I trust you, Cas…"

Dean sucked in a deep breath, shut his eyes and waited for the agony that came with getting a "soulenoscapy" but even though he could feel Castiel's hand reaching in, there was no pain as a result. Dean had to assume it was because Castiel already had a piece of his soul. He opened his eyes to spy Castiel's face, full of anguish for having to cause his friend pain, but the anguish faded when he realized what Dean was wordlessly telling him.

Lucifer stood there, inches from both of them, smiling maniacally. Dean realized why when the siren song came to an abrupt halt. A sinking sensation settled in the pit of his stomach.

_They're alive. _Castiel's voice resonated in his head. _Dean, don't give up. They're alive._

Dean forced a nod, but the look on Lucifer's face was unnerving. "Castiel, buddy…"

Without a word of warning, Castiel thrust his free hand out toward Lucifer. That one gesture sent an explosive wave of bright light towards the unsuspecting angel. He was unable to avoid being swallowed up in it. He vanished. Castiel released Dean instantly, pressing a hand to his shoulder gently.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Surprisingly… yeah."

Both angel and hunter paused a moment. In the distance, they could hear a voice—a superbly bad voice, the voice belonged to Bobby; he was singing. Worse still was the undertone of Sam's voice. Dean and Castiel bolted in the direction of the awful singing to find Bobby hovering over the corpse of the siren, bloody bronze dagger in hand.

"You can stop now, Sam, she's dead," Bobby ordered.

Sam did stop then blushed fiercely upon the arrival of Dean, sniggering into the collar of his jacket. "Wow," he laughed, approaching Sam to slap him on the back.

"Just to be clear, that is a bad wow, Sam," Castiel added.

"I hunt, I don't sing," Sam defended, frowning.

"No one's judging you," Dean chuckled, walking straight to Bobby, "You on the other hand… what the hell Bobby? Is there no one in your family who can hold a note?"

Bobby turned with the dagger in his hand, pointing it at Dean as he spoke. "No one told me I would have to sing to survive! I did what I had to!"

"Yeah, well, just don't go pro," Dean remarked.

"If you weren't like a son to me…" he gestured putting the dagger through Dean's chest, gritting his teeth, "Idjit," he finished, and with his free hand, he slapped the hunter upside his head.

"Geez, Bobby," Dean whined.

"Where were you guys?" Sam snapped, looking from Dean to Castiel. "Seriously, if I hadn't eve's dropped on your conversation with Cas when you faced that thing the first time, Bobby and I would both be dead right now."

Dean and Castiel exchanged wearied glances before Dean explained in detail.

"Lucifer? That sonofabitch got out of the cage? How?" Bobby exclaimed, wiping the dagger on the seam of his jeans.

"He had help," Castiel replied. "I am a pariah up in Heaven so I cannot disregard the very real possibility that one of the angels released Lucifer in order to destroy me. Unfortunately, with Lucifer free and wandering, knowing about Dean's infinite soul, there is no safe place for him here."

"It's just a friggin soul," Dean snapped with annoyance.

"It's the holy grail of souls, Dean," Sam said then turned his gaze to Castiel. "What do we do? If everyone knows now then there is nowhere to hide."

Castiel sighed. "No."

"And you can't be here twenty-four-seven," Sam added, panic rising in his voice.

"We can place him in a safe house," Castiel suggested, "A place just like the beautiful room."

"No," Dean protested. "I'm not goin into hiding! I can't hunt if I'm holed up somewhere kickin up dust."

Castiel sighed. "This is bigger than you, Dean."

"Everything's bigger than me," Dean retorted angrily, "It's always about the bigger purpose or the master plan or whatever crap you angels decide to make up to convince me that what I care about doesn't matter! But this is my life! This is my soul and I could give a crap about the master plan!" Unable to say anything else, he turned and began walking down the road, heading back to the Impala he had temporarily abandoned. He lowered his eyes to the road, gazing at the yellow line until it felt like it was a part of him. He felt Castiel before he arrived in front of him and stepped back so they would not be nose to nose.

"Dean?"

"Not talkin about it," Dean responded, grabbing the door to his Impala.

"I understand."

Dean climbed into the car and Castiel followed. Both just sat there in silence until Dean was forced to start the car just to hear the purr of the engine. "What do yeh want me to say, huh? You want me to be grateful?"

"No…"

"I don't wanna be stuck in friggin witness protection because my soul somehow has a mind of its own and is apparently worth more if I'm dead!"

Castiel nodded but said nothing.

"I don't want some uber important soul, alright? I want a normal soul that will let me live a normal life! Is that so much to ask?" Again Castiel said nothing. "Am I talking to myself or what?" he snapped, agitated.

"It isn't," Castiel spoke.

"It isn't what?"

"It isn't so much to ask, and if I could take the price tag off your soul, I would, but there is nothing I can do, Dean. This is exactly the reason why I was being so secretive, why Sam and I had meetings that did not include you. We were both trying to avoid this by keeping silent."

Dean dropped his head onto his steering wheel. "So now I'm public enemy number one, is that it?"

"You are not hated, Dean, you are coveted," Castiel corrected.

Dean muffled a laugh. "I don't get it. Why the hell is my soul so damn special? I'm human just like everyone else! I've made mistakes, I've murdered, I've ditched a ton of chicks, so why the hell is my soul the coveted one, huh?"

He stared at Castiel, but the angel had his lips pressed together so tight that they instantly paled.

"You know why, don't you," Dean growled, leaning across the seat to eye Castiel pointedly. "Spill it, man or I might have to kick your ass."

"I know nothing," Castiel muttered.

"Bull!"

"Dean…"

"I thought you said I could trust you! Have you changed at all or are you still the slimy bastard that tore down Sammy's wall?"

Castiel straightened. "Human souls go through unending struggles, but some souls… well, they are able to endure more than others. In the case of your soul, the struggle yours endured should have broken it; instead… that soul grew stronger. The endurance created something new—rare, impossibly rare…"

"What?"

"True love, Dean."

Dean lifted his head from the steering wheel, suppressing a laugh. "What?"

"Mock if you must but that is the difference between your soul and others."

"True love," Dean choked, pressing a hand to his mouth, "you've gotta be kiddin me!"

"I am not… kidding you."

"Of course you're not. You know this is crazy, right?"

"This has been a myth for thousands of years. The infinite soul has been a story that has gone through dozens of revisions, much like your bible. With each new revision, the story recieves a new layer; if there was any truth to it, it has been covered by all the lies."

Dean turned in his seat to face Castiel. "So… is that it? One sided true love was created in my soul?"

"One-sided?"

"Well, yeah," he muttered, "Usually love requires two people or it's… something else."

"It is not one-sided," Castiel said in a voice so full of warmth that Dean felt a pleasant shudder.

"Oh… can I ask?"

"No."

"Lisa…" Dean attempted

Castiel said nothing, and Dean decided not to pursue the subject further.

"Am I still a… slimy bastard?" Castiel asked after the pause lengthened.

"Depends," Dean replied, eyeing the angel.

"On?"

"On whether there is more you should be telling me about all this true love stuff?"

Castiel shook his head. "There is nothing else. You now know what Sam and I know."

"Fine," Dean said, glancing through the windshield to see that Bobby and Sam were inches from the Impala, apparently waiting for something. "Hey," Dean called to them, waving when they looked his way. "Get in the car will ya? I wanna get the hell outta here!"

"Are you two finished… talking?" Bobby asked, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

"Yeah," Dean replied.

Bobby gave Sam the strangest look before climbing into the back. Sam followed without saying a word to Dean. The entire drive back to Bobby's was completely silent. Dean shared a look of perplexity with Castiel. Once they arrived and the Impala was parked, Dean watched as everyone but him and Castiel left. Sam leaned on the edge of the window, gazing in at them.

"Coming?"

"Nah, I need to get a real drink. I'm getting sick of Whiskey."

"Purple Nurple," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "Wanna join me?"

Sam glanced back at the house. "It's been a long night, man. I think I'm just gonna crash."

"Your loss," Dean said, popping in a cassette tape from his collection. Castiel had not yet left. "I bet you got tons of stuff on your plate, right? Heavy archangel business to deal with?"

"No," Castiel replied.

"No?"

"No."

Dean nodded with a piqued interest. "You ever try a purple nurple?"

Castiel tilted his head. "No. What is…"

"It's the greatest drink ever, and I do mean ever! You know what? I think it's time to celebrate your promotion properly! What do you think?"

Castiel's smile was slow coming, but eventually it arrived. "I think I would like to celebrate with a… purple nurple."

Dean returned the smile with a mischievous grin then turned up the music. "Seriously man, you won't regret this!" With his thoughts trained solely on what this night was going to entail, Dean gunned the engine, adding with a smirk to Castiel, "I'd buckle up for this."


End file.
